


No dust upon the furniture of love.

by Kaesteranya



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-13
Updated: 2010-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Know that what he really wants isn't this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No dust upon the furniture of love.

He falls onto you the moment you’re both back in the locker room and very much alone, and maybe you should be saying something or asking him what the heck this is all about, but you’re making some rather undignified sounds instead, as you watch him kiss your mouth/sit you down on the bench/shove you against a bunch of lockers/slide a hand down the front of your uniform/make quick work of the zipper of your pants.

  
By the time you’re coherent enough to stutter out his name, it’s a little too late, isn’t it? Because he’s kneeling on the hard floor between your legs, licking his lips, eyeing your crotch.

  
“J-J-J-Junta-san!”

  
“You’re still wearing boxers at your age?”

  
 _What’s that supposed to mean?!_ is what you’re supposed to say next, but he’s slipped your cock into his mouth and you can feel the roof of his mouth and oh god you’re shaking and god it’s hot and god _the rest of the team’s just outside—_

  
You ought to care: really, you ought to. But it’s kind of really difficult for you now, because the way Junta moves his tongue over your dick is kind of really demanding every ounce of your attention...

  
...don’t know how much time passes, only that it couldn’t have been long because nobody came in and after Junta pulls back to spit your cum out and wipe his lips clean with the back of his hand, he’s smiling, and he only smiles that way when he’s not-so-secretly laughing at you.

  
“You’re too easy.”

  
“You’re just an asshole.”

  
Then he’s kissing you again, and he’s a really good kisser, and you wish you could hate him for it.

  
You also wish, sometime later, that his eyes weren’t so empty-looking, that, when you both step back out to rejoin the rest of the group, he won’t end up going right back to staring at his cellular phone, waiting for Kazu to call him, knowing that he won’t.

  
Later comes, though, and his eyes are still empty, and you’re still stuck at the fringe, watching him flip his mobile open and shut, open and shut, and forget, once again, that you’re there in the first place.  



End file.
